When I sit down determined to explain myself, I put thought to paper first, re-read, and then title it. Tonight just for shits and giggles, I picked a title first. Let's see what pops up. And just to chance it a tad closer to the edge, I even picked the color first. Type on the wild side Mike. What bold and rash hair crossed my butt I wonder?
Winter in Maine is no bullshit in your face winter. The snow in early November often stays until May, leaving the frost pounded 5 feet into the ground. About January, everyone is pinned inside eagerly hoping mud season comes early. It is often minus 17'F for weeks and the sun doesn't get much higher than your hat until March. Five months of the year, we hide inside and peek outside hoping something, anything is showing a sign of an early thaw.
I did not want to write another "I hate winter in Maine" piece. I don't hate winter really. I just get tired of it. And now, with winter still a fresh experience, laying into it would seem hollow, insincere, and forced. I haven't been hunkered down in my house for 4 straight months with no sun, wearing flannel all the time. I haven't suffered through enough shovel the drive sessions at minus stupid with horizontal snow in my face no matter where I turn. No, I haven't suffered enough to justify winter's hair shirt yet.
We just recieved our first big blow. 15 inches anyway. It screwed yesterday up, but today has been grand. Blue skied and friendly temps in the low forties. The snow was light and fluffy. A shovel full weighed nothing. A story book storm when snow is magical. The sun hits the virgin drifts and dances in flashes and hurts my eyes. The winter in Maine I love. The early first kiss part of winter.
But I know a few months of this and the romance will be gone. Replaced by a mood ugly and morose. Suffering cabin fever and low light blues, I will slouch nasty tempered mumbling as I tap on the thermometer hoping it is just stuck. I will give up looking outside. My existence, an internal subsistence fed by cheetos and "Baywatch" re-runs. Gotta love the way those silcone filled beauties bounce when she runs into the surf to save some dumass.